Lost and Found
Chapter 7
Disclaimer: Same as last chapter.
Author's Note: Hey its been awhile. To avoid any confusion, this is not related to Found Part I.
Summary: "Being with you hurts Ryoma-kun." There was uncertainty as he stared at chocolate brown eyes. "Why?" "Because you don't know." They always leave he thought.
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She was staring at the floor and biting her lips. Fists clenched tightly at her side.
"It hurts Ryoma-kun." She said in a painful whisper. "Being with you hurts."
He gave no reply on his end, just stared mutely at the top of her chestnut colored head. She had pulled her hair up into a ponytail today he noticed almost mindlessly. He always had a thing for girls with ponytails.
Then he heard her make a strangled sound, and he knew she was crying, could picture the tears streaking her face and running down her chin.
And still he gave no reply.
What did she expect then, what did she want? He didn't, couldn't understand. So he said nothing and stayed silent.
An awkward and tense silence filled the air around them, thickening and choking them until it was almost like a tangible being itself.
It was killing them both until Ryoma, in an attempt to escape it blurted out the first thing that came to his blank mind and oh so eloquently broke the tension, sliced through it clean with just one blunt word.
"Why?"
She couldn't help but choke a laugh through her tears. He was always like this, well meaning but completely and utterly oblivious. He was senseless and blunt and incredibly ignorant of human feelings and of emotions, of her emotions. He had no idea how much she had suffered because of him, for him. From the doubt, the criticisms from rabid fangirls and gossipers not to mention the magazine critics. And he didn't know, didn't appreciate it, and always, always took her for granted.
It made her wonder, what was she to him. What was she doing here with a man who barely even noticed her. Tennis was his life, but he was hers. So it was okay if she was second best she had thought, because that was enough. More than enough actually.
But now she was tired. Tired of the stalker fangirls, the paparazzi... tired of him. Him and his uncaring, unfeeling being she thought with a small spark of anger. But then it was quickly drowned byher sorrow and self pity. There was no more she could do she realized. She couldn't put up with it any longer. She had been drained dry and now there was nothing left to give.
"Because you don't know." she said simply.
She finally lifted her head to meet his eyes. He had been right, she was crying. Her chocolate brown eyes were swollen and puffy, her cheeks and pert nose flushed red.
He hated it when they cried, he always felt so helpless. But more than that, he always felt like he was somehow the cause of all those tears. But what was he supposed to do?
He didn't know.
So he turned his head away, away from the guilt, and away from the tears.
She sighed. What had she expected from him.
This she realized. This was exactly what she expected him to do, to say. To react. She only needed to confirm it.
It was quiet for some time and noone said anything. He knew he needed to tell her something to make her feel better, to fix this and try to somehow understand what it was she needed from him. But he didn't know what to say. He turned around to face her and opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. She was gone. She had silently slipped away in the darkness. He blinked in disbelief. She had left him cold, alone with a handful of chains and an unlocked lock with the key still inside, bound to nothing. To no one.
She was gone, free of him and him of her.
Finally.
Maybe now he could breathe a bit easier.
But instead he felt his chest tighten and his breath come in little gasps. He could see the little puffs of air that came out each time he took a violent breath. The little pain in his chest became sharper with each gasp until he wished he could stop breathing at all. A wetness covered his cheeks and the earth seemed to crumble beneath his feet.
He really did like her he realized.
Ryoma didn't know how long he stayed like that, rooted to the ground in the middle of the park. And it wasn't until he saw a familiar shadow hanging overhead that he realized he had sat down on the concrete at some point.
"She left." He whispered.
"They always leave." He said bitterly.
"Always."
"No." replied the shadow. "Not always."
Warm hands cupped his face and the figure smiled softly at him.
"I'm here aren't I?"
He stayed silent, and stared blankly at her with a muted expression. But the smiled never slipped from her face, and the twinkle in her eyes stayed warm and inviting.
Large hands grabbed at a braided pigtail and pulled the shadow closer to him, sinking into her warmth, head leaning on her shoulder. He held her tightly to him, as though to prove to himself that she was real. He wasn't imagining things and he wasn't dreaming. She was real he thought in awe.
"Thank you." His breath ghosted out and misted in the chilly night air.
"Thank you."
"I'll always be here."
"Always." She said, mimicking his earlier comment.
In the silence, in anger, in sorrow and pain, through everything, she had always been there. Despite the death threats from angry fans and gossip magazines and the chaos that was his life, she had always supported him and had stayed with him through thick and thin. Did she not expect anything in return he wondered.
He had once asked her why she so stubbornly stayed by his side.
She had looked up at him with small, knowing smile.
"Because we're friends." she had said simply.
'Friends' he thought.
Normally that memory comforted him. It gave him solace and a sort of peace that soothed his entire being. But at the moment he couldn't help but feel a tinge of regret. Regardless, the moment felt right.
"Sakuno." He breathed
"Sakuno."
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A/N: Bet you guys thought the first girl was Sakuno. Ahahaha. :) Inspiration seems to always strike me in the dead of night.
Please review, and as always, constructive criticisms are welcome.